Stars and Stripes
by FortunesArkHero
Summary: Steve Rogers has lung cancer and different health problems that cause him to feel shut away from society. Bucky Barnes had a 'touch of cancer' that made him lose his left arm. When the two meet at a group for cancer kids, a relationship blooms that neither boy was prepared for.
1. Prologue

**Hello! May I present a The Fault in Our Stars Stucky AU. After watching both movies repeatedly, I had to write this. Please read, review, favorite, follow and most of all enjoy (keep tissues handy)**

**Imagine pre-serum Steve as Hazel and Winter Soldier Bucky as Gus.**

The cannula pushed air through his nostrils and into his weak little lungs, but even with the support of his most trusty sidekick (and of course he meant his oxygen tank), Steven Grant Rogers stood outside Bucky Barnes' house with full intent to climb up to his window. Steve just wanted to see Bucky. He knew he didn't have much time left and this was probably the last time he was going to see him before oblivion claimed him from the living forever. He was soaking wet, the rain coated him in a glossy liquid. This did not help his lungs at all. In fact, it took everything within his power to not cough them up on to the pristine and green lawn of the Barnes residence. So, as he slung his oxygen tank over his shoulder, Steve grabbed on to one of the vines growing on the side of his house and pushed his muscles to pull him to Bucky.

After three strenuous minutes of fighting the slimy wet vines for a grip, Steve sat in front of the window, sucking in the sweet oxygen from the crisp and rainy air. His lungs started to calm down again and he delicately laid his hand on the window. Steve slowly opened the window. Thankfully, Bucky never locked his windows. He had even snuck out on occasion, which was why when he fell off one time, he garnered himself a nice scar on his stomach and a broken foot. The artificial rising of Bucky's chest with the help of his breathing machines made Steve cringe. It made him damn near throw up.

It wasn't right. Bucky wasn't supposed to succumb to this.

Steve set his oxygen tank on the floor and discarded his jacket, his shoes and his socks. He couldn't afford to get pneumonia again. He grabbed the oxygen tank and rolled it next to Bucky's bed, his free hand went through his wet hair. He felt tears rim his eyes and prick at his corners. Steve inhaled a big breath of air and wiped his tears away before they threatened to fall down his face. He outstretched his hand to the blanket, lifted it up and cautiously crawled into the bed without hurting Bucky and tripping over the wires to his machines. Bucky looked peaceful, but Steve knew better. Bucky was in pain.

Steve settled under the covers comfortably and laced his fingers with Bucky's. His thumb immediately started to rub over his left hand. He casted his gaze down to their entwined hands. "I told you I would be there for you, Buck. Til the end of the line, pal. I know that our line is short. _Very_ short, but I'm not gonna let that stop me from being here now. You knew what I needed, how to make me smile. You knew if I was sad or hurting. You knew how to make me happy. I just hope you know that _you _were the one who made me happy. I wouldn't trade any of it for anything. You are my world, James Buchanan Barnes. And a world without you is not a world that I think I can fit into."

Steve gently craned his head and used his free hand to move some hair from Bucky's face. His eyes flicked to his pale lips and before he knew it, his own pale lips claimed Bucky's in the sweet, gentle and passionate way that's happened so many times before. Steve pulled away and pressed a small kiss to Bucky's hand. "I'm with you til the end of line. I love you so much." Steve closed his eyes and listened to the machines and the rain. His hand was still tightly clenched with Bucky's and it would take everything short of an apocalypse to force him to let go. Slowly, Steve let unconsciousness claim him; his head finally lolled on to Bucky's left shoulder.

Steve Rogers loved Bucky Barnes and nothing could change that.

* * *

The sun peaked through the rain-streaked window, gently cascading over the boys' faces. Painfully, blue eyes pried open to the world when it was thought to be impossible. Bucky's beautiful blue eyes adjusted to the light that he had been deprived of for 6 days. He felt a light pressure on his shoulder, and his face groggily lit up. He knew that pressure he felt. He turned his head to his left and saw the man he loved so deeply. He looked down and saw their hands and shook them lightly. "Hey, punk," he said hoarsely. His voice was dry and cracked from lack of use. "Wake up, buddy. I miss your voice so much." He lightly shook Steve. His eyes were drawn in confusion as he strenuously touched Steve's face with his right hand.

"Steven Grant?"

**Did you grip the edge of your seat? Are you wondering what will happen next? Come back and you'll find out! (If you cried or panicked, I am sorry)**

**Until next time,**

**~Fortune**


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow! I am so thrilled that people are taking to this really well! Thank you for the favorites, reviews and follows! No Bucky in this chapter, but you will meet Sam and others. I hope I get the characters down good. Please enjoy the chapter!**

**Also, today is my 21st birthday and what better way to celebrate it than with a drink and a new chapter for my loyal readers?**

_Seven months earlier..._

* * *

Steven Grant Rogers had a hell of a life for a young man of almost 21. And the term 'hell' could either be meant for surprising or straight hell. He was born on July 4th (and his lineage of soldier ancestors just made it all the more better for him that he was born on Independence Day and honor them). He was the only child to Sarah and Joseph Rogers; so of course, he was paid special attention to. Oh, and his lung cancer, his aggressive asthma and numerous health problems helped out with that.

Steve's body was frail and little. Some of his friends made the assumption that he was born very sick and hardly ever got better. Winter time was a real bitch in their home of Brooklyn, New York. That's why the Rogers family packed up and moved to Jacksonville, Florida. It hardly got cold there and Sarah and Joseph couldn't afford for Steve to get another horrendous case of pneumonia when even something simple like the common cold could land him in the hospital for a week. Steve was diagnosed with lung cancer when he was 17. He had undergone chemo and seemed to slowly (very slowly, like a glacier melting kind of slowly) recover. But during one particularly harsh winter in New York after he turned 19, Steve got pneumonia really bad. He ended up in the ICU. He was unconscious for nearly 2 weeks, hooked up to multiple machines to keep him alive, got his meds through IV's and had a tube stuck down his throat.

His parents thought that would be the end of their son.

But it wasn't. Steve regained consciousness, healed up from the pneumonia and was put on a new experimental drug which actually made his lungs feel like they were working. He was released after the winter broke so he wouldn't end up back in the hospital, and it was decided that they were going to move somewhere warm, so Steve chose Jacksonville. In addition to it being warm and sunny all the time, it was a nice little 2 hour drive from Orlando and that meant Disney World. Steve was given a nasal cannula and an oxygen tank that he could wheel around or sling over his shoulder (he had named it Trusty because it was the trustiest device he had and it kept him breathing). Of course he got looks when going out in public but he grew very used to it. He was thankful to be alive. But even overcoming what seemed to be the lowest point in his life, that didn't stop Steve from become increasingly depressed.

So, here he was, almost 21 years old, what should be the best years of his life and he moped in his room, sitting cross-legged on his bed with a sketch pad in his lap and a pencil in his hand. Drawing was the one thing Steve loved that he excelled in more so than any other thing that he had done. The walls in his room were covered in drawings that he had done over the years. But as of late, he didn't feel like drawing. He just wanted to curl up into a ball on his bed. And Sarah and Joseph took notice.

* * *

"I'm not going," Steve said as his mom made a left turn into the parking lot of the old community center. Sarah rolled her eyes and the car came to a halt. The car door unlocked, but Steve still did not budge. His gaze was casted down to his lap, his fingers fiddled with the plastic of his cannula. "I'm not going," he protested, again. Sarah ran her hands through Steve's short blond hair. "You think your dad and I don't see it, Steve? You think we can't see that you are declining away from society? Baby…" And then Steve looked into the dark blue eyes he inherited from her. "I know you're hurting, but I know I can never fully understand just how much that you are. All I can do is try to help make things easier. That's why your dad and I figured that this group might help. It's an art group."

Steve's eyes darted to the building. Sarah never mentioned that it was an art group, too. She said it was just a support group for cancer kids, either going through it or in remission. She hadn't mentioned that it was an art group. Maybe she did and he just didn't care to listen. Steve wrinkled his nose and pressed his lips into a thin line. "Ok," he said with a sigh. "Three meetings. If I don't like it, I don't have to go back. Deal?" Sarah smiled and gave him a nod. "Deal, but you have to try and make friends." Steve rolled his eyes and opened the door, carrying Trusty right behind him. "I'll be here when it gets out 6." Steve waved to Sarah as he made his decent to the small building.

When Steve opened the door, his nostrils were hit with a smell and it was familiar: Fresh paint. Through what part his cannula allowed, Steve could smell the paint. It made the corners of his mouth tug into a grin. "You must be looking for the group, right?" Steve turned to his right and saw a young woman with curly brown hair. Wow, she was pretty. "My name's Peggy Carter, I help with the group." "Steve Rogers," he said as he shook her hand carefully like a gentleman. "Alright, Steve, just follow me and you can meet everyone." Steve followed Peggy down a hallway and through a door. There were other people his age, maybe a tad older and a bit younger, all sitting in chairs in a circle, some with sketch pads or easels and paper in front of them.

"Phil," Peggy called to an elder gentleman standing with the kids. He looked worn down, but still looked happy. Phil came over to the two. "This is Steve Rogers, the new recruit. Steve, this is Phil Coulson, the one who runs the group." The two men shook hands and Peggy walked away. "Well, Steve," Phil started with a clear of his throat. "This group is to help everyone afflicted by cancer and hopefully we can make everyone feel comfortable given the circumstances. Most of the people here are scared because they are sick, but sharing experiences with someone that knows what they're going through is helpful. I can tell that you don't like to talk to your parents about it because they don't get it and if you tried to explain it to them, they still wouldn't get it." Steve swallowed thickly and bit his lip. What a way to dead-pan it.

"So, what's the art for?"

Phil gave him a small smile and put his hand on his shoulder. "The art is for kids like you. So you can express how you're feeling without telling anyone. You can take the art home and show it to your parents to see if they get it, or you can keep it here where you don't have to tell them. That way, you still can express how you feel." Steve looked at the walls of the room. There weren't many paintings, so he made the safe guess that this group was either a new thing or people took the pictures home. "You should've been a psychiatrist, Mr. Coulson." Phil laughed at that and led Steve to a chair. "Not my division. And please call me Phil." Steve sat down and Phil presented him with a sketch book. It was brand new, never been used. Steve could fill this thing up by the end of the night if he tried hard enough.

"Alright, everyone," Phil called to the kids in the group, and everyone drew their attention to him. "Ok, why don't we start introductions, hm? My name is Phil Coulson, I went through a rare form of kidney cancer about 5 years ago, but after some chemo and a donor, I was granted my life back. But even though I was cancer free, I didn't have anyone to support me. That was the worst thing…feeling alone. I wanted to start this group so people that are affected by cancer don't have to feel like they are doing this alone. So you can all have the support that I didn't get."

Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek. His parents supported him, but they didn't know what a pain in the ass cancer was. Steve's eyes scanned over the kids in the group and his gaze settled onto the one next to him. The kid was a young male probably around his age. He had dark skin and chocolate colored eyes to match. He sat in a wheelchair, he scribbled something in his own notebook. The boy looked up and his eyes meet with Steve's. "Sorry," he said, quickly, his gaze shifted back to his lap. The boy smiled at him as he stuck out his hand. "No worries, man. I'm used to it. Name's Sam Wilson." Steve grasped the boy's hand and shook it. "Steve Rogers." His blue orbs glanced at the wheelchair again.

"You're wanting to know what kind of cancer I got," Sam said abruptly. Steve chewed on his lip and gave a small nod. "Schwanna neurofibrosarcoma. It's a mouthful meaning I have a malignant tumor growing on my spine. Wheelchair helps with the pain. Used to have really intense sharp pains in my back. Got a 50/50 chance of surviving. And the chemo is a real bitch, too." Sam chuckled and Steve gave a smile. He knew all too well the hardships of dealing with chemo. "I have lung cancer and asthma which just makes it worse. My lungs suck at being lungs and it's really hard to breathe so I've got old Trusty here to help," he pointed to his oxygen tank. "I've got an experimental drug that helps, too. Was supposed to have kicked the bucket about 2 years ago. Just wouldn't give up."

The boys completely ignored Phil as he talked to the other kids. Secretly like stealthy ninjas, Sam and Steve exchanged cell numbers and xbox live usernames (because honestly, what young man wouldn't want to play xbox in all hours of the night?). Finally, they decided to actually pay attention to the group's kids: Natasha Romanoff had leukemia and wore red wigs to symbolize her natural red hair, Clint Barton had cancer that caused him to go blind and ruined his chance for an archery scholarship that he was being highly considered for, and Loki Odinson had nonmelanoma skin cancer which caused his skin to be damaged and turn a light hue of blue. Then there was Sam and Steve, the two stuck to themselves, talking about their pre-cancer life. And before they knew it, the session was over and would convene next week.

Steve exited the center as he said his good-byes to Sam. Sarah was reading a book in the car and was startled when her son entered. "So, how'd it go? Make any friends?" Steve gave her a quick smile. "Yeah, and the guy, Phil gave us a new sketch book to use." Her face lit up and she pressed a kiss into his hair. "See? I knew you'd like it." Steve clicked his seatbelt in place and looked through the little doddles he made in his sketch book with Sam. While true he made a friend and knew people that were in the same situation as him, Steve still felt all alone.

One down, two to go.

**Ah, poor Steve! I want to wrap my arms around him and hug him. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to express your thoughts and feels through reviews (they are candy for writers or in my case for today, birthday presents) as well as favorites and follows. Now, here are the reviewer shout outs!**

**YouKnowWhoIAm- Aw you are completely welcome for the feels that it inflicted upon you. I keep the feels of my readers in jars and you've been added. Enjoy this one!**

**So, i must now leave to celebrate my name day (totally GoT reference). See ya!**

**Until next time!**

**~Fortune**


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